


i'm dreaming (of me & you)

by zoeyclarke



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Humor, Married Couple, Mischief, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28298151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoeyclarke/pseuds/zoeyclarke
Summary: Okay, so Zoey might have forgotten about Christmas. Oops. But luckily, she still finds the greatest gift for Simon.
Relationships: Zoey Clarke/Simon Haynes
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11
Collections: Zoey's Playlist Secret Santa 2020





	i'm dreaming (of me & you)

**Author's Note:**

> ohhh how i missed writing about my faves. this cheesy little thing is for the zoey's playlist secret santa 2020, and it's a gift for my dear friend montana, who is heartsongs over on tumblr. ily girl, i hope you enjoy this one because i had a lot of fun writing it! it made me even more excited for season 2 coming up in a few weeks, ahhh! anyways i hope y'all enjoy this, and thanks to everyone who participated in the exchange this year! i'm having a great time reading and admiring everyone's presents :')
> 
> p.s. nat you should read this (insert catgun)

Zoey didn’t mean to end up in this position. She wanted this year to be different. She wanted to plan things out the way her mom always did, and make every moment grand just like her dad did,  _ and  _ even agree to cut down on complaints like her brother did. ‘Tis the season, after all, right?

But it’s hard to feel the spirit of Christmas when she’s in the dead center of a  _ veeery  _ slow-moving line in a department store on Christmas Eve. Zoey looks down at the box in her hands and wonders where she went wrong.

* * *

It might have been somewhere between getting the tree and that unexpected snowfall. Currently buried up to her nose in a big project at work, Zoey spent most of her minimal free time between Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve with her feet up on the coffee table, a glass of wine, and episodes of  _ Chuck  _ on TV. Then she blinked and suddenly, somehow, it was December 23rd. 

“Oh, no,” Zoey said, sitting upright on the couch with an unmistakable gleam of panic in her eyes. Her wine nearly sloshed out of the glass, so she set it down carefully to prevent a new addition to the long list of  _ oops  _ that she was about to confront.

From the kitchen behind her, delectable smells wafted over, accompanied by a cheerful hummed rendition of  _ “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas.”  _ Zoey tried to quell her panic as she slowly entered the room.  _ It isn’t BEGINNING to look like Christmas, it IS Christmas! Shit!  _

Hesitating in the entryway, Zoey scanned over the array of food platters spread out on the kitchen island. Her eyes devoured the delicious-looking dishes before her brain could even fully process them. Simon wasn’t kidding when he promised that whole “I’ll always take great care of you” thing in his vows. He cooks enough for a damn army, and it provides them leftovers for a week that always taste freshly made.  _ Wow.  _

She cleared her throat and leaned against the doorway, pulling her lips into what she hoped resembled a smile. “...  _ Hey...”  _ she mumbled, rubbing her arm guiltily before adding as an awkward afterthought, “... there.”

“Hello, yourself,” Simon chuckled, turning away from the stove to grin at her. “What’s up? Need a refill?”

Zoey couldn’t help letting out a frustrated sigh. She was frustrated with herself, of course.  _ It’s December freakin’ twenty-third and I haven’t crossed a single item off my shopping list. I am an awful wife.  _

“No,” she said, stepping closer and drumming her fingers on the quartz countertop. “Um, thank you, though. It’s just that I, uh, realized I have a  _ teensy  _ little problem on my hands. Like, it’s so minuscule you probably couldn’t even see it with your naked eye,” she fibbed.

Simon lifted a brow at her. “Zo, it’s okay. I know that Christmas might’ve... slipped your mind a little bit.” Damn it, how does he know her so well? At her look of shame, he quickly set down the wooden spoon he was holding and moved around the island to hug her. “Don’t worry about it. I know the SPRQ app has been taking up a lot of your time.” He planted a kiss on her head, and Zoey melted further into his touch. “I got all the shopping for our families done, I bought everything you had on your list— or, on that scrap of napkin, I should say.” His laugh was gentle and soothing, a pleasant vibration on Zoey’s cheek as she leaned into his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I know work’s been crazy, but that’s still no excuse.” She pulled away from the hug to meet his eyes. “I’ll do better next year. I promise.”

“Next year, and all the years to come after that,” Simon assured her. Zoey reached up to cradle his beard in her hand, and the movement naturally shifted into a soft, languid kiss. 

She broke it after a minute with a new worry pinching her brow. “Okay, but... what about our  _ big _ present?” Zoey asked, slumping her shoulders as the full realization hit her. “The one we’ve been preparing and talking about for  _ months?” _

But again, Simon offered her another calm smile in response. God, how is he so patient with her dumpster fire self? Zoey thought by now she would have convinced herself that she deserved him. Oh well, maybe by their ten-year anniversary she will. She knows both of them are far from perfect, but she thinks Simon is about as close to perfect as someone can get.

“Next year,” he assured her, turning down the heat on the stove and giving the soup a quick stir. “We have all the time in the world, don’t we?”

Zoey sighed, opening a cupboard and grabbing two plates from the stack inside. “I know. It just sucks having to wait.”

“Well, you know what  _ doesn’t  _ suck?”

She peered over at him, immediately catching on to the teasing glint in his eye. “... what?” 

“How does decorating the tree tonight sound?”

An hour later, after dinner was eaten and dishes were washed and put away, Zoey and Simon found themselves facing their next challenge: a tall, intimidating, prickly Douglas fir. For weeks it had stood in the corner of the living room, neglected and forgotten without even a single light on its branches. Last year’s memorable experience had taught them the hard lesson that no, Christmas trees do  _ not  _ fit well on the roof of a Tesla. So this year, they had hurriedly bought a tree from a lot a few blocks away from their house. They carried it home probably the day after Thanksgiving, then left it waiting in the corner of the room ever since.

“So, um, tell me how we forgot to decorate the tree until  _ literally  _ two days before Christmas?” Zoey couldn’t stop giggling as she helped him heave the box of decorations out of the closet.

“Hey now, I couldn’t remember  _ everything,”  _ Simon pointed out with a laugh. “I guess we’re on the same wavelength a little  _ too  _ much sometimes, huh?”

Zoey gave him a playful nudge in the arm. “Well, at least now I know why my mom kept giving us weird looks during her visit last week. She’s probably worried I forgot to buy presents for Mitchie since we couldn’t even remember the tree.” She rolled her eyes. “David would  _ never  _ let me live that down.”

Simon shot her a teasing smirk. “Right. Well, we’re definitely all good there. How could I  _ not  _ remember to buy all twenty-two toys you had written down for your nephew?”

Zoey faked a pout, then pointed a fake accusatory finger at him. “Hey, it was twenty- _ three  _ toys and you know it!”

Together, they kneeled down and popped off the lid on the box. One of the (many) exciting things about moving in together had been getting to combine both their collections of Christmas decorations and ornaments. But there was something extra special about it now that they were married, too. Right at the top of the box was one of Zoey’s favorite wedding gifts: a gorgeous crystal ornament engraved with their names and wedding date, courtesy of David and Emily. Just looking at it again made tears spring to Zoey’s eyes. 

Sometimes she still couldn’t believe it was real. This was  _ really  _ her life now. Working as the fourth floor manager of SPRQ Point (for going on two years!), and living with the love of her life in a gorgeous house that has the most  _ incredible _ skylights (now that her dad is somewhere up among them, the stars are even more important to Zoey, so sometimes she’ll sit in the dark and gaze up through the skylights for hours). She couldn’t believe this life was actually  _ hers.  _

“Do you want to hang that one first?” Simon asked. He lightly brushed a thumb over her cheek and dropped another kiss on her head, his favorite spot to do so.

“Let’s hang it together,” Zoey suggested. Simon hummed in agreement. She extracted a hook from the tangled cluster of them spilling out of a plastic baggie, and when she held the ornament out to him, Simon took it and attached the hook to the white satin ribbon on it. Together, they stood and approached the tree, which was still in need of some lights. Each holding the crystal piece in one hand, they chose a branch near the top. Closer, closer, and—

The moment their hands brushed the tree, a million pine needles showered down on them, clinging to Zoey’s hair and sticking on Simon’s sweater. Zoey let out a squeal of alarm and jumped back, looking in dismay at a tree that had somehow become even  _ more  _ bare.

“Uh-oh,” Simon said, grimacing. “We forgot to water it, didn’t we?” 

Zoey groaned. “This  _ can’t  _ be happening! This is our first Christmas as a  _ married couple,  _ Simon! It was supposed to be perfect and effortless and—”

“Let me stop you right there,” Simon chuckled. “Zoey, I love you, but you  _ know  _ that no Christmas in the history of Christmases has ever been  _ effortless.”  _ He placed his hands on her shoulders and ran them down the length of her arms, joining their hands in a flawless fit. “Sure, this year is more special than the last few, but it doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

Zoey gave a troubled sigh. “Yeah... I guess...” She trailed off when she noticed his eyes land on something over her shoulder. “What is it?”

“You want a perfect Christmas?” Simon whispered, a radiant smile growing on his face as he slowly turned Zoey around. “How does a  _ white  _ Christmas sound, my love?” With that, he directed Zoey’s attention to the window, and her heart leaped.

It was a San Francisco blizzard. Here, of course, a “blizzard” qualified as anything more than a handful of flakes, but this one  _ certainly  _ counted. Outside, a million little drops of snow were twirling down from the sky, as if each individual one was engaged in its own dance. Not for the first time that night, Zoey was in utter disbelief. She was so transfixed by it that she didn’t hear the music building behind her until Simon’s singing accompanied it.

_ I’m dreaming of a white Christmas _

_ Just like the ones I used to know _

Zoey beamed, spinning back around to face her husband— oh, wow, her  _ husband.  _ (She’ll never get over  _ that.)  _ As far as heart songs go, this one was simple and relaxed, precisely what Zoey needed in that moment. Simon offered her a hand, and when Zoey took it, he immediately brought her in close. His voice was low and throaty, the lyrics rumbling out from somewhere deep in his chest. Zoey pressed into him and let him lull her into contentment.

_ Where the treetops glisten and children listen _

_ To hear sleigh bells in the snow _

A brief instrumental allowed them to break into a slightly livelier dance, with Simon spinning her away from him then back again, their sock-covered feet soft and silent on the rug. A laugh broke through Simon’s heart song reverie, and Zoey laughed with him, closing her eyes as he picked pine needles out of her hair.

_ I’m dreaming of a white Christmas _

_ With every Christmas card I write _

They slowed down again going into the final lines of the second verse. Zoey linked her arms behind Simon’s neck while he held her waist, and they swayed gently to the timeless music. She stared out the window each time she passed it, watching the miracle snow continue falling.

_ May your days be merry and bright _

_ And may all your Christmases be white _

Zoey knew the daydream was about to end, so she prepared herself for Simon’s amused question of  _ “Ooh, what was it this time?”  _ But the illusion didn’t fade away. She stayed enveloped in Simon’s arms, and he continued spinning them until the last note of music came to a close. Then, to her shock, Simon gently disentangled himself from her and went over to his phone, which was sitting on the coffee table.

“Wait...” Zoey muttered, her brain still catching up. “Did you— was that—”

Simon smiled softly, tapping something on the screen before pocketing the device. He tried to resume their blissful embrace, but Zoey was still marveling.

“It... it wasn’t a heart song?” she asked quietly.

He shook his head, brushing some hair out of her face as he explained, “I’ve been wanting to create something like that for you ever since you said you lost our first dance at our wedding to a heart song. Except... I don’t think it was  _ lost, _ Zoey. Heart songs— the way you describe them, at least— they seem like such magical moments to me. I wish I could experience them with you, so I thought I would try to mimic one now.” He bent down to peck her forehead.

Zoey sniffled and buried her face in his sweater again. “It felt so...  _ real,”  _ she said, struggling to find the right words. “It felt like...”

“It was real,” Simon told her. “It  _ is  _ real.”

Zoey could die on the spot (in the best way possible). She thought back to a few years ago, when she finally found the courage to tell Simon the truth about her power. She had worried for so long about how he would react to the news, but as it turned out, she never had any reason to stress about it. At first, Simon was stunned, of course, but more importantly, he  _ believed  _ her. A few months after that, they’d started dating. Now Zoey tells him about every song she hears, including his, and he listens with all the supportive excitement Zoey could have hoped for.

* * *

The line inches forward, and Zoey sighs, wondering how she could possibly make this up to Simon. She can’t take back all those wasted weeks spent focused on work instead of considering what to get for her own husband. Naturally Zoey had several ideas, but with the dwindling hours until the 25th, her options have become significantly limited. Now here she is, waiting in the longest line of her life at eight o’clock on Christmas Eve, about to buy a gift that she has decided will be the first part of a series of belated presents.

She spends another ten minutes tapping her foot and listening to tinny, barely audible Christmas music. Then her phone rings. Figuring it’s Simon calling her wondering what’s keeping her at work so late, Zoey grabs it from her pocket and answers it without even checking the name on the screen.

“Hey, babe, I’m so sorry I’m late, I was just—”

“Excuse me, is this Zoey Haynes?”

Zoey’s apology comes to a dead stop. She frowns, brow furrowed in confusion. She thought she’d blocked telemarketers from calling her phone ages ago. “... yes?” she says after a pause.

“Oh, thank goodness. I’m so relieved you picked up,” the voice laughs. “Um, let me explain. This is Sarah from San Fran Rescue. You and your husband reached out to us a few months ago asking about the recent litter that had come in.”

Recognition sparks in Zoey’s brain, and she perks up right away, her curiosity heightened. “Oh, yeah, I remember. But... I thought you guys said everyone had been claimed.”

“Well, I actually have some good news for you. Someone cancelled, and now we have a little girl with no home to go to...”

* * *

The next morning, Zoey wakes up feeling positively exhausted. She might have gotten only half a wink of sleep, but she doesn’t care— it’ll be worth it. 

While Simon is in the shower, Zoey checks her phone. After a minute, the text she’s been waiting for appears, and she tiptoes out to answer the door.

“Thank you  _ so  _ much, Mo,” Zoey says gratefully, pulling her friend into a hug before turning her attention to the wiggly creature at their feet. “I hope she didn’t give you too much trouble?” She winces when Mo shoots her a look that says  _ Never. Again.  _

“I wouldn’t exactly say that, but she was very entertaining company, that’s for sure,” Mo yawns. “Now you remember my payment, right?”

Zoey nods briskly. “Yep. A video of his  _ entire  _ reaction. I’ll send it to you ASAP.”

“Good.” Mo looks even more tired than Zoey feels. She offers him one last apologetic wince, then lets him go back home to what will likely be a long nap.

By the time Simon has emerged from the bathroom, Zoey  _ thinks  _ she has everything ready. Box, check. Bow, check. Phone on and recording, check. There’s just one thing missing...  _ Where the hell did she go?  _

_ “Oh!  _ Hello, there. And who are you?” Simon’s surprised shout comes from the bedroom, and Zoey hides her face behind her hands. Ten minutes in, and she already lost track of the most important part of his gift.

She rushes to their room, where she finds her husband splayed on the floor, still shirtless with his pants only halfway on. Standing on his chest is a chubby and energetic bulldog puppy, who yips several times before getting to work covering his face in sloppy licks. Ha, and to think Zoey was about to buy him a tennis racquet for Christmas.

Zoey lingers in the doorway, thankful she at least thought to take her phone with her so she can record this moment. Then after a few seconds, she sets it down and comes to Simon’s rescue.

“No, no,” he says when Zoey tries to lift the puppy off of him. “She’s established herself as queen of this domain. Let her rule as she pleases.”

Zoey giggles, instead lying down on the floor next to him and watching as he gives the little brown and white dog an endless supply of affectionate rubs. “So?” Zoey asks, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Best Christmas yet?”

Their new furry daughter then chooses to crawl over onto Zoey’s chest and provide her with her own fair share of kisses. They both crumble into laughter, and through it Simon replies, “Best Christmas yet.”


End file.
